


Happy Birthday, dear Ruben

by Pumpkin_Spiced_Scribbler



Category: Do No Harm (TV), In the Heights - Miranda/Hudes
Genre: Birthday, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pining, denial about feelings, denial about pining, dumb dumb idiots whom i love, secret birthday ooo, secret from the birthday boy of all people, vanessa pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24295483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pumpkin_Spiced_Scribbler/pseuds/Pumpkin_Spiced_Scribbler
Summary: Usnavi and Vanessa find out when Ruben's birthday is! Holy shit, it's tomorrow! How can you plan a day of birthday fun for a guy whose idea of fun is reading by himself in a quiet room? and do it without him noticing? and still pretend you're not in love with him? the challenges just keep coming!
Relationships: Ruben Marcado/Usnavi (In the Heights)/Vanessa (In the Heights), Usnavi/Vanessa (In the Heights)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Happy Birthday, dear Ruben

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisstableground](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisstableground/gifts).



> Note- I have never seen/watched/consumed Do No Harm and know Ruben SOLELY through fic. This is set in @thisstableground's Ruben-moves-to-the-heights-verse, at a very pining and denial-filled point in their relationship. Happy Birthday, sophia! and ruben!

“What’s up?”

It’s definitely only a little bit creepy, Vanessa reassures herself. Ruben managed to leave his wallet at Usnavi’s apartment- not her fault- and she only picked it up and rifled through it out of innocent curiosity. Partly, too, out of the hope that an ugly ID photo would help her stop thinking of him as ‘adorable’. She could picture it, maybe, next time he comes into the bodega looking like an oversized teddy bear in need of a good kiss. 

“What is it?” Usnavi says again, now crossing the room to peer over her shoulder. There’s a pout in his voice when he huffs, “Aw, man, how’s his photo look cute?” Vanessa grunts in agreement because, yeah, so much for that plan, he’s as handsome as ever (even if the angle of the photo is, from any objective standpoint, pretty bad)- but her gaze is still held by what she’d noticed next.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

“ _ Look _ , Usnavi,” and she points- his birth-date. July 17th 1988. He’s turning 29, which is actually a little younger than she’d thought he was, and he’s a Cancer, which she hates that she knows just from listening to Carla on breaks, but more importantly- Ruben Marcado’s fucking birthday is July 17th, which is  _ fucking  _ tomorrow.

“Oh,” says Usnavi softly. “Oh  _ no- _ ”

She knows before she looks around at him that his eyes have gone sad and puppy-huge, as he groans - “You think he’s just not gonna do  _ anythin’ _ ?” - because he’s Usnavi and a birthday spent alone is the saddest thing in the world to him. She puts the ID firmly back into its place, scowling when she realises he's implanted the thought in her brain, too. Ruben sitting alone on his birthday, no one even mentioning it when they see him, maybe even buying (or- she shudders-  _ baking _ ) himself a little cupcake to stick a single candle in and blow out all by himself? She scowls harder, and the wallet meets the coffee table with more force than it needs to.

Usnavi's still pouting and wringing his hands. 

“Vanessa, we gotta do somethin’! We gotta make sure he has a proper birthday! He can’t just be- by himself!” 

Vanessa bites her tongue on pointing out that Ruben  _ likes  _ to be by himself. Could it really have been an accident that he hasn’t told them? She’s far more surprised that Usnavi somehow never asked than that Ruben didn’t bring it up. And it’s Ruben, with so much still clearly behind a wall and so many buttons she doesn’t yet know how to avoid- there’s no reason to think his birthday isn’t one of them.

“Maybe he don’t want it to be a big deal?” she points out. “Maybe he’s had bad birthdays, or he just don’t like ‘em, we don’t know! Ain’t our place to tell him he’s gotta have a birthday if he don’t want one.” Usnavi’s sad-puppy face stays just as sad, and Vanessa wants to squeeze him ‘til he pops. She wonders at what point in their relationship that’s going to stop. _Focus, Vanessa._

“Baby, what about Ruben makes you think he’d like us to jump out of a cake and yell “SURPRISE” in his face?”

“But- but-” he seems to cast around for a mature, sensible-sounding protest, but only comes out with- “- but, Vanessa, it’s his  _ birthday _ !”

She really shouldn’t laugh, and she doesn’t much, to her credit. She pulls Usnavi down to the couch and tries to hug him into looking less like a kid who’s Halloween candy got stolen. She can pretend to him, if not herself, that she wouldn’t love to knock the guy’s socks off with the biggest party of the year- but surprise parties, and parties in general, truly seem like as far from Ruben’s  _ thing  _ as they could get.

_ Alright then,  _ says a fierce place in the back of her brain.  _ Forget the birthday part. You can have fun on days that aren't your birthday. _ _   
_

She nudges Usnavi so he’ll look up from pouting into her boob, and says, “We can do as much Ruben stuff as we want, so long as we don’t let on that it’s a birthday thing.” He frowns for a second, figuring it out, then starts to brighten.

“You mean we can, like, do birthday stuff, only he won’t know it’s birthday stuff? Just like, fun Ruben stuff, with his friends stuff?”

“Exactly. And  _ we’ll  _ know it’s birthday stuff, so you’ll feel better-” of course, she doesn’t say  _ we’ll-  _ “- and Ruben can do some nice Ruben stuff with no pressure, so it’s win-win!” Usnavi beams, and promptly launches into a spiel of Ruben gift ideas which makes her think he's already made some kind of shortlist on his own time.

It’s the perfect plan. Sometimes Vanessa forgets that she’s a genius.

Their genius Ruben-birthday-fun-but-not-birthday-fun plan takes the rest of the evening to properly hatch, and Usnavi clearly enjoys every second of it. The fact that the bodega was planned to be closed tomorrow for Usnavi’s once-every-three-months-or-so day off seems like destiny aligning, though whether for good or for bad she isn’t sure, since it allows him a whole day to fill with planned Ruben-activities. Usually, this day is mostly her trying to force him to rest, but she can’t find it in herself to rail against it too much, since none of the activities he’s planning are especially draining. And since the point of them is to make Ruben happy.

_ Usnavi  _ starts to be a little draining, after a while. He wakes her up three times as she’s trying to fall asleep with a new detail or idea, but she can’t pretend that it doesn’t bring an excited spark to her, too- at least, the first couple of times. The prospect of doing things for Ruben, birthday or not, is appealing in a way that’s far too mushy for her comfort. She shrugs it off- it’s just the same as doing things for Nina, or for Carla, why should she feel weird?  _ Or like doing things for Usnavi,  _ points out an unwelcome little voice, which she kicks into silence. She’s not going to deal with that until she absolutely has to. Can't she just want to give a cute boy the best birthday he can have without her brain getting all weird about it?

In the end, sleep comes with far more difficulty than it does before her own birthday.

The next morning, Usnavi wakes her up with excited kisses, reminding her of the timing needed for the first phase of their plan. They’ve allowed for half an hour of grumpy-morning-Vanessa delay, but they still cut it fine, as expected. She’s just grateful that Ruben’s not a morning person either. Usnavi bounces on his heels at the door while she does her makeup in the bathroom, talking himself through the details of what they need to do- what he needs to say and not say, in order for Ruben not to realise exactly what they’re doing. There's a limit to how much they can do without being conspicuous, of course, but that's probably for the best given Ruben's excitement tolerance level. It should work, she’s sure, if Usnavi doesn’t blab by mistake. They’ve got excuses for everything. 

Usnavi stays bouncy all the way to the bodega, opened on its closing day for just long enough to make one coffee (he insisted on doing it at the bodega instead of his apartment, for reasons she couldn't comprehend at 7 in the morning), and all the way to Ruben’s apartment, squeezing her hand pump-pump-pump in time with his footsteps.

“You jig around too much and you’ll spill it” she points out, and the bounces get a little more subdued. The squeezes get harder to compensate, though.  _ Poor Usnavi,  _ Vanessa thinks. Usually he has months to spread out his pre-friend-birthday excitement, but his body’s having to condense it all into less than 12 hours. Considering that, it’s impressive that he isn’t actually floating an inch off the ground.

He presses the buzzer at Ruben’s building five times in quick succession before she knocks his hand away, and the groggy voice on the other end says:

“Usnavi?”

“Yeah, it’s me! It’s us, I mean! Hello! Hola! Good mooooooorning, Ruben! We got somethin’ for you!”

“Uh- good morning? Do you… I’ll- uh- come down?” He sounds barely out of bed, Vanessa notes, but he’s gone before she can ask if he'd rather they left.  _ Bounce, bounce, bounce _ , goes Usnavi while they wait for his steps on the stairs. When the door opens, Vanessa’s surprised to see that he’s dressed, before she realises that he definitely slept in the sweater and jeans he’s wearing. The effect is ‘adorably rumpled’, which makes her slightly furious.

“Hi?”

“I brought you coffee!” Usnavi half-yells, shoving it into his face. “Since the bodega’s closed today I didn’t want you to miss out!”

“Oh! Thanks…” Ruben takes it as if he thinks it might explode, but a small smile works its way onto his lips. “You offer this service to all your customers?”

“No! I mean- well, they all know what days we’re gonna be closed so they know they ain’t getting coffee, but I thought, you know, you’re pretty new in town and I didn’t want you to like, turn up at the bodega and have it be empty!”

“Uh…” Ruben glances between them, his eyes clearly saying both  _ You could have just texted me  _ and  _ So why are you here as well?  _ Vanessa tries to make her face say  _ ‘what, a lady can’t take a walk with her own boyfriend in her own neighbourhood?’  _ but his nervous expression means she’s probably just glaring at him. She abandons the attempt and forges on.

“We also came to give you this-” she holds out the wallet, and he switches his coffee between his hands to take it, looking shocked-

“Aw, man- I didn’t even realise I didn’t have it!” He slips it into his pocket with a sheepish expression. “That’s probably not a good sign, huh? Thanks a lot- you didn’t steal any of my money, right?”. He switches his coffee again. Maybe it’s making his hands too hot. 

“Cross our hearts.” Vanessa assures him. “We didn’t even look in it, obviously, that would’ve been weird- we just knew it was yours because we just- we know what your wallet looks like. Because we’re friends.” Ruben blinks at her. Perhaps the lady protesteth too much, or whatever the fuck it is Sonny’s always saying.

“Um-”

“Well!” Usnavi shouts from beside her. “That’s what we came here to do! Goodbye, Ruben! We hope you have a very lovely day!” He starts to drag her away, while Ruben stands looking blankly at them leaving.

“Uh- thanks? Bye,” he says, giving them a small wave which Vanessa returns as the door closes. 

They're halfway down the street before Usnavi starts bouncing at full force again. Ruben-Birthday-Stuff-Phase-One: Complete. She can imagine him making a big green check-mark on the list that exists in his brain.

_Absolutely crushed it._

Back at his place, Usnavi’s bouncing moves to a position right by the door as they wait for the mail that’ll allow Phase Two to commence. Getting this shit on next-day-delivery is the biggest splash-out they’ve made in a while, so they’d better come in good time. Vanessa occupies herself answering emails and fucking around with work tasks she doesn’t want to do, and perks up at the sound of the buzzer going off after a couple of hours have passed. Usnavi, for his part, whoops through a mouthful of chips at his post (she couldn’t persuade him to leave it, even for a make-out session, which is usually foolproof)- and dashes out to fetch the parcels.

Phase Two requires some extra preparation, once the items have been checked over and laid on the coffee table, to try and make sure they don’t look bought-today. The recipe book with a smiling, Abuela-esq woman on the front gets its label removed and a coffee mug placed carefully on a couple of the pages. The sweater gets worn for as long as they can justify it by Usnavi, to stop it from smelling like plastic. Vanessa certainly feels  _ something  _ about the fact that it’s going to, instead, smell like  _ Usnavi _ , but resolutely turns her back on that and demands a turn after he comments on its softness for the fifth time in 20 minutes. (And now it’s going to smell like her, too, Christ. At least they’re even.)

“You think he’s still at home?” Vanessa asks from where she’s curled up in it on the couch, trying not to think about Ruben doing the exact same thing later. Usnavi looks up from where he’s carefully dog-earing pages and shrugs. 

“Text him?” Well, better her than him, Vanessa supposes- at least he’ll be used to her being blunt. She pulls out her phone and refuses to overthink.

_You:_ hey u still home

There, that should do it. A second later the message is  _ seen,  _ and a full few minutes after that she gets her reply.

_Ruben:_ Yes.

His little typing bubbles pop up again, then disappear, then return to deliver the message-

_Ruben:_ Why?

_You:_ found some stuff for u were gonna come over

_Ruben:_ Is that a missing apostrophe or a missing ‘we’ ?

_You:_ huh

_Ruben:_ “we’re gonna come over” or “we were gonna come over”

_Ruben:_ Sorry- that was an unnecessary question, it nearly means the same thing

_You:_ first one

_You:_ ur a weird texter marcado

_Ruben:_ I’ve been told.

_You:_ see u nerd

“He’s home,” she tells Usnavi, “We’re good to go, which means you need to stop fiddling with that.” Usnavi tries to pout and frown at the same time.

“Then it also means you have to take that off.”

“I guess we’re both making sacrifices.”

She pulls the sweater off and holds it up to survey it- does it really look worn? It doesn’t smell new any more, but if their story is really going to hold up…

“Do you have nail scissors?” Usnavi looks guilty at the question- apparently the biting renders them unnecessary. She finds a thin enough knife in a kitchen drawer, and goes along one cuff and part of the hem, breaking a few of the tiny threads so she can unravel a tiny part, then thread it through itself to keep the rest of it intact. 

Usnavi tells her several times on the walk to Ruben’s that she’s a genius, and hugs the sweater close to his chest with a far-off look on his face.

“Thinking about somebody?” Vanessa prods, and his ears go scarlet.

“No! I mean- not like that! I was just thinkin’ how much Ruben’s gonna like it!” He looks down at the sweater, eyes still soft under his blush. Vanessa finds herself smiling too- he  _ is  _ gonna like it, she’s confident of that. Catching herself, she forces the expression into a smirk and elbows her boyfriend.

“You could at least try to be subtle about your crushes when you’re right next to your girlfriend.” Usnavi groans and protests that it  _ ain’t like that,  _ but he never was any good at lying. It’s odd, how much Vanessa genuinely doesn’t mind, doesn’t feel threatened in the slightest. Luckily, she can’t unpack that train of thought any further, because they’re at the door a second later, with Usnavi hammering the buzzer once again.

“Uh- Usnavi?” comes Ruben’s voice.

“Present and correct! Come down, we got somethin’ for you!” He waggles his eyebrows at her in a way that makes it clear the pun was deliberate, and that he exercised considerable restraint in not putting a weird emphasis on the word. 

Vanessa’s pleasantly surprised to see that, when Ruben appears, he's changed out of his sleeping-sweater-and-jeans into a new pair, and that his hair looks like he’s showered. The bags under his eyes aren’t gone, but that’s hardly surprising for Ruben. Before he’s even on the porch, Usnavi shoves the bundle of sweater-and-book into his chest excitedly-

“These are for you! Cause we found ‘em!” Vanessa resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“We were clearing out some old boxes at Usnavi’s place-” she explains- “We think they must’ve been a relative’s ages ago.” She’s confident that her tone is a little less suspicious than Usnavi’s. “I mean- who else could we give them to?”

Ruben has managed to extract the book and is looking at the cover, eyes wide.

“I- I know this writer,” he says quietly, “This is… this is really nice, you guys. I-” He looks up at them with the beginnings of excitement, and Vanessa pats herself on the back for an hour of recipe-book research well spent- “Thank you so much, this is… it’s so nice. Are you sure I can-”

“Don’t you even finish that sentence, Marcado.” Vanessa tells him sternly. “C’mon, you think we’re gonna find a gray sweater and keep it for ourselves? And you  _ know  _ neither of us cook.”

“Well I- yeah, but I-”

“Shut up and take them, weirdo. You can pay us back with baked goods if your conscience really needs it.” The little nervous am-I-allowed-this smile on his face is doing something to her stomach. It’s probably disgust at him being so sweet.

“Oh- and speaking of food-” Usnavi butts in, and god she  _ knows  _ he’s so proud that he managed a segway- “We were gonna go out for dinner tonight, and we wondered if you’d like to come with us! Nothing fancy, don’t worry, just a little Thai place a few blocks away.”

“Oh- I- I dunno, I don’t really… eat out-” Ruben starts, but Vanessa recognises this tone of voice by now, and jabs a finger into his face.

“You’re not allowed to say ‘no’ unless you actually don’t want to come.” The little smile comes back.

“Okay.”

“Great!” Vanessa grips Usnavi’s hand next to her and feels him practically vibrating. “We’ll swing by around 6 to pick you up, then?”

“Sure! That’d be- uh- nice!” He looks a little bewildered, but mostly pleased, as he ducks back inside with his arms full of his gifts. Once he’s out of sight, Usnavi actually jumps off the ground, still clasping her hand.

“Vaneeeesa!” he whisper-yells, dancing on the spot, “He liked ‘em! He really liked ‘em, did you see his face when-”

“Of course he liked ‘em, babe, we’re amazing gift choosers.” She plants a firm kiss on his lips, because he’s just being so goddamn cute. “We’re the masters of Ruben gifts.”

“Hell yeah, we are!”

“Now, we have to leave or we’re going to look suspicious.”

They’ll be back again four hours later, having filled the Ruben-less time with a movie and a hot debate prompted by the movie- plus Usnavi taking all the plates out of his cupboard and putting them back in a different order. The latter is mostly a protest after Vanessa told him he wasn’t allowed to dectuple-text Ruben. She herself shoots him one very restrained “still on for 6?” at 5:15, and receives a “Yes!” followed by an “Oh no I didn’t see Usnavi’s texts! Tell him I wasn’t ignoring him please!” She notes that he's using considerably more exclamation points than he was earlier, and counts that as a good thing. Usnavi spends 20 minutes picking out a red shirt to wear, and Vanessa grins at the wall, imagining Ruben doing the same thing with a lineup of identical grey sweaters.

When they arrive, he buzzes them up, apologising that he’s not ready yet, and the happiness physically radiates from Usnavi when they see that he’s wearing his new birthday sweater. It has floury hand-prints on its hem.

“You’ve been busy,” says Vanessa, and the place smells like baking as they cross to his living room.

“I- yeah, I used the book, I made- I tried out one of the more basic recipes, it’s a little different to what I’m used to, but it was fun, I-” He’s standing in the middle of the room, smiling with his eyes and clenching and un-clenching his hands- “Would you like to have some? Oh- wait, shit, we’re about to go out and eat, that was- Sorry, I’m just a little-”

“Ruben, it’s okay!” Usnavi cuts him off- “Bring some over tomorrow!”

“Yeah, we’ll still be here, man.” Ruben’s little smile is back.

“Okay. Okay. I should- I’ll go change.” He goes to his room with an awkward gesture for them to sit on the couch (or, knowing Ruben, it’s probably closer to “You’re free to do literally anything you want in here, don’t hesitate to destroy my apartment!”) They take seats on his couch, which, despite being old and used, is definitely more comfortable than either of theirs. Usnavi scoots right up to Vanessa and makes it dip so much that it’s impossible to move, swinging his legs a little with his hands on his knees because it’s all just going so  _ well.  _ When Ruben returns, wearing a slightly darker, less worn out grey sweater, Vanessa has to fight the instinct to pull him down into their comfy couch dip and ditch the dinner idea entirely- but her stomach protests at that idea, and, more importantly, touchy isn’t generally Ruben’s cup of tea.

Ruben is knocking his fists against his hips as they get up to leave, looking at them strangely, shuffling his feet.

“You still want to go?”

“Yes!” he says quickly, “Yes, definitely. Sorry, I’ve just got a bit on my mind, I guess.”

“Talk-it-out kind or distraction kind?” Vanessa asks as she opens the door for Usnavi. He looks mildly queasy at the question.

“Oh- uh- I’m not- Well, definitely not talk-it-out kind? Absolutely not that one.”

“Roger that! Dinner distraction and not mention it, then?"

"Yes, please."

Vanessa moves when they get to the street so that Ruben’s in the middle, not wanting him to feel like he’s third wheeling. Is he third wheeling? He hangs out with the two of them all the time- should it feel like a third wheel situation? She shrugs, tunes into Usnavi asking Ruben about the recipe he’d tried- tricycles work just fine, don’t they? It’s not like an extra wheel is gonna knock you over if you put it in the right place.

It’s only a short walk to the restaurant, and the place is fairly empty, as it’s a weekday night. Vanessa pats herself on the back for another good move- it’s not like they’re regulars, but she knows the menu well enough to have an order in mind for her, and for Usnavi when he tries to get something he definitely won’t like, and for Ruben when he can’t make a decision. They don’t have to wait for a place and, as they sit down at the table, Ruben’s wide eyes travel round the room a couple of times before he looks to them.

“This place is pretty nice,” he says quietly.

“Vanessa picked it!” Usnavi says, loudly. She manages, again, not to roll her eyes.

“It’s a favourite of ours, when we want to treat ourselves a bit. It’s not crazy expensive or anything, don’t worry.”

“Oh- I wasn’t- I can pay, of course, I can pay for- for you guys-” He’s already clasping his hands together under the table, mind clearly on the difference in their budgets that he’s always so guilty about. Usually, Vanessa has no qualms about letting him pay for them- only when she  _ could  _ have paid for it herself, of course- no point refusing free shit out of pride, but she refuses to owe anyone anything. But no way in hell is Ruben Marcado paying for his own birthday dinner, even if he doesn’t know that’s what it is.

“No way,” she says, “It’s my turn to pay, Usnavi and I always take turns, and it’s mine, so no argument.” It’s true, which makes the hidden lie easy, and it seems like Ruben doesn’t have it in him to argue with a couple’s date-traditions.

“Next time, then,” he concedes, and it isn’t until they’ve already ordered, waited, and started eating that Vanessa wonders whether it was weird to include him in those couple date-traditions.

As the meal progresses, Ruben actually relaxes, and Vanessa mostly sits and listens to the two boys talking- amusing herself by flicking her eyes from one to the other, going pointy, soft, scruffy, soft, scratchy, soft, and playing footsie with Usnavi under the table to distract him. She badly wants to do it to Ruben too, just because he’d probably go tomato-red and try to hide it, assuming she’d been aiming for Usnavi- but that’d be mean, on his birthday, no less. She stores away the thought for personal entertainment later.

It’s a welcome surprise when a full, slightly sleepy Ruben invites them back to his apartment to keep hanging out after dinner. Vanessa puts him in the middle again when they start down the street, laces her arm into his after getting his permission and grins as Usnavi does the same on the other side. Ruben stutters in talking about the book he’s been reading- he keeps going, pink-cheeked, and when Vanessa meets Usnavi’s eyes over his head, he’s blushing too. She bites her lip. Is it really so bad to acknowledge it- how cute he is, how well he fits in between them? She focuses in again to see Usnavi still looking at her, curiously, like he’s noticed something. She frowns the thoughts away. She needs to focus on the Ruben currently spouting scientific jargon next to her, not the fictional one in her mind who might get a kiss on each of his cheeks instead of just a person on each of his arms. There’s still five hours or so left of his birthday.

“Got a favourite movie?” she’s asking a half hour later as they slump down on the couch with coffee and Ruben’s biscuits. Usnavi’s already stuffed at least two of them, making indecent noises and exclaiming about how amazing Ruben is. Ruben himself, who’s sitting with his new grey sweater on again, knees tucked up to his chest and a cookie in his hand, shrugs noncommittally before answering-

“I don’t really- I don’t watch a lot of movies.”

“That’s okay!” Usnavi’s voice is muffled from his third cookie. “I got ideas! We could watch-”

“If you start suggesting Disney movies, babe, I’m gonna have to opt out,”

“Aw, c’mon, Vanessa!” He swallows his mouthful of cookie and fixes his best puppy-dog eyes on her. “They’re-”

“No, no, I know they’re classics, but baby we  _ always  _ watch ‘em,”

“Well, all your movie picks are too scary! Everybody’s always shootin’ each other an’ shit-”

“Yeah- no shooting, please,” pipes up Ruben from the couch.

“How aboooout- Oh! Something Ghibli! Kiki’s delivery service?”

“Hey, I could go for that! Haven’t watched it for a while.”

“Great!” Usnavi flops onto the couch on the other side of Ruben and starts searching for the film.

“I- haven’t seen it!”

“Little magical witch girl has a flying delivery service but her powers go all glitchy? And anime Griffin McElroy has a crush on her.” 

“Cool- uh- before we watch it though-” His voice has suddenly gotten higher, his form between them more tense. “Can I- ask something?”

“Sure, man, shoot.” Vanessa turns her body towards him, trying to figure out from his expression what level of problem this is- with Ruben, big and little problems seem to merit the same amount of stress. She meets Usnavi’s gaze on the other side, and sees him chewing on his lip. Ruben has started rotating his own cookie over and over in his hands.

“I- uh- well, I was just I- Well! Um!” He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. When he finally speaks again, his voice is quiet.

“How did you guys know it was my birthday?”

_Oh, shit. Touche, Marcado._

Usnavi’s already spluttering-

“Wh- What are you talking about! Wow, it’s your  _ birthday?  _ Uh- Happy-” 

“Usnavi, drop it.” Vanessa interrupts. “Our genius figured us out.” She peers at Ruben, relieved to see that he doesn’t seem upset. “We saw your ID when you left your wallet at Usnavi’s place. How’d you know we knew?” Ruben snaps his cookie in half, fiddling with the pieces and getting crumbs all over his knees.

“Well- I thought the coffee thing was kind of weird, but, well, it does seem like a thing Usnavi might do. But then- uh- Well, you guys know Thai food is my favourite. And it’s odd that you just had a sweater lying around that was my size. And…” - he looks painfully apologetic. “That recipe book only came out this year.”

“Damnit! Maybe we wouldn’t be good spies after all, huh, Usnavi?” She's mostly amused, but, predictably, Usnavi is starting to panic.

“I’m sorry, Ruben, we shouldn’t have, like, tricked you, and-” 

“Usnavi, it’s okay!” Usnavi opens his mouth to continue protesting, but Ruben cuts him off- “I need to say something else, or I’m not gonna say it, I’m sorry, ugh, that sounded rude, I just wanna- I-”

“Stop apologising, both of you. Ruben, you got the floor.” Usnavi clamps his lips shut and nods. Ruben looks from one of them to the other, then takes another long, steadying breath.

“Okay. This is going to sound really stupid. I didn’t tell anyone it was my birthday, partly cause it seemed weird to bring up, like I was expecting something. I don’t know. But also, I- I didn’t want to get my hopes up that someone would do something? Cause everyone here’s so nice and it makes me feel like… but I didn’t know what to- shit, I’m not really making sense. Point is, I wanted to hide away and be all sad, because no one was doing anything for my birthday, even though I hadn’t told anyone it was my birthday- and that way I could pretend a little bit that they might’ve given me a card or something if they’d known, but  _ also  _ I wouldn’t have to do any of the normal things people do on their birthdays because I don’t like them.” His eyes are fixed firmly on the cookie crumbs in his lap. “But you guys didn’t- and you didn’t let me- wait, that sounds like it’s a bad thing. What I’m trying to say is: I had a really, really nice birthday. Really. So, thank you.”

Neither of them can find anything to say to that straight away, but, after a moment, Ruben speaks again, eyes still fixed downwards.  “Why didn’t you say what you were doing?”

“We didn’t know if we’d be steppin’ on something personal.” Vanessa says quietly. “Didn’t wanna bring up somethin’ you didn’t want brought up, if you know what I’m sayin’. And you don’t seem like the jumpin-out-of-cakes kinda birthday boy, either. We just- like you said-” She finds herself suddenly unable to look at him, either. Her face is inexplicably hot. “We just wanted you to have a nice day. On your birthday. I mean- Usnavi practically had a meltdown at the thought of you spending it all alone.” Usnavi makes an attempt at speech, but what comes out is a kind of defensive, but still very emotional, squawk. He coughs and tries again-

“I- yeah, what she said.” - and Ruben snorts, which makes Usnavi laugh too. “Sorry, sorry, I mean. Yeah. We just wanted to help you have a good day.”

“Well, I did,” says Ruben, and, god, his voice is a little wobbly. “I did. Can-” His voice cracks and he cuts himself off, stays silent for a moment.

“What is it, Ruben?” He looks up at her, close to terrified.

“Can I have a hug, please?”

And thank  _ god,  _ because she feels like she might have imploded any second from  _ not  _ being able to hug him. He makes a muffled squeaking sound when she wraps him up in his arms, then giggles against her chest when Usnavi tries to turn himself into a backpack. It feels so good Vanessa could almost scream. It takes a little shuffling around, but they manage to find a way to make the Ruben sandwich comfortable, and he relaxes in the hug while they hold him, not speaking, not mentioning the fact that he’s crying. When Vanessa brings a hand up to scratch her own cheek, she brushes a lock of Ruben’s hair and he pushes his head towards it, unthinking. Gingerly, and glaring at the back of his neck, she runs her hand flat against his hair, like she might pet a skittish cat.

After a while, Ruben speaks into the silence.

“Can we watch the movie now, please?”

“Course.” Both their voices are thick.

“Usnavi, you got the remote.”

“Oh, right.” 

A little more shuffling, as Usnavi extricates himself, then comes back once he’s got the movie started. A little more ten minutes in, when Vanessa really, actually can’t bear the numbness in her legs any more- but they make sure Ruben stays wrapped up between them until he makes any move to separate. Which he doesn’t.

“Vanessa,” Usnavi whispers, as they reach the last quarter of the film.

“Hm?” She looks down. Ruben is fast asleep, his head still resting on her chest. Her breath suddenly won’t come right, and when she looks across at Usnavi, his eyes are wide and bright. He swallows, still looking at her, and this is something, isn’t it? It’s something, it’s something, it’s something, and her heart is beating far too hard for someone who’s almost lying down. After a few more seconds, Usnavi settles back against Ruben’s side. 

Vanessa already doesn't want to have to wake him up later. Perhaps falling asleep will mean he insists on a do-over movie night to make up for it. Perhaps another, and another, and another. Somewhere in the darkness, her hand has found its way back to Ruben’s hair and she thanks god that, for once, Usnavi keeps his eyes on the film and pretends he hasn’t noticed. They’re going to have to talk about it, one day. But not tonight. Ruben sighs in his sleep, tightens his fingers on her shirt.

If she leaned down two inches more and kissed his forehead, what would happen, what would happen, what would happen?

“Happy Birthday, Ruben.”

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know if you enjoyed!! this might be the fastest i've ever conceived, written and posted one fic, so thank you ruben!!


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